from the love to the lightning
by BlondeTate
Summary: "If she wants to be poetic she'll say the reason she still loves Tate is the house." collection of Tate/Violet mini stories. Some canon, some AU.
1. what dies in the house

_from the love to the lightning_

I really shouldn't be writing all these new Violate stories when I still have to finish some of my other fics, but what can a girl do when she has all these ideas flying around in her head? I think I'll make this story a series of mini oneshots which are all so short that they have no real purpose to them other than it's fun to write. I probably won't update regularly, just when I get inspired.

**IMPORTANT NOTE:** I'm abroad, on holidays, and what I intended to be two weeks became almost four, so with limited internet connection I might not be able to update _the beginning is the end is the beginning_ for a while, especially since after this week I won't have access to a laptop or a computer. I'll try to update once at least this week, but if it doesn't come together, I just wanted you to know.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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**_what dies in the house_**

If she wants to be poetic she'll say the reason she still loves Tate is the house.

After all, what dies in the house, stays in the house. Her love for him died in the house, the moment the truth came out: he was her mother's rapist.

Blind rage.

The only emotion she recalls feeling in that moment and in the next few, and it completely suffocates whatever romantic feelings she had for him.

Her love dies.

Then it comes back to life, like she did and he did and everyone else did, but now they are all just ghosts of their former selves, lost little souls, and so is her love. Because there's betrayal too, and pain and suffering, and the blind rage decides to stick around too, and all these emotions push her love to the background. It fades in comparison.

It fades but it never disappears. It fades but then it comes back just as strong as before, only to fade again. It fades, but that's just her brain, trying to tell her to stop loving the boy who is the worst choice she's ever made.

It fades but maybe it doesn't.

* * *

** I said I'll only update this if I'm inspired and I already have an idea for a next one, so you can keep an eye open for it :) **

**Love,**

** Kathy**


	2. playing with fire

_from the love to the lightning_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

* * *

_**playing with fire**_

Fire had never really fascinated her, no more than any other thing in her life, no more than water or the other two elements of the four.

Even now, as she lights up her lighter, watching the flame burn and shine brightly, simply because she's bored and has nothing better to do, she's not really fascinated by it. It's just something to pass the time.

She's taken to playing with fire as a way to amuse herself, and maybe one day she'll burn down the whole house if she gets really bored. Now, that would be entertainment. And maybe then they'll all be free.

Her relationship with Tate had been playing with fire too. It was a dangerous game and she always knew that but she took the risk anyway and ended up burning herself, with a permanent and ugly scar on her heart.

Sometimes she doesn't mind. Other times she wishes she would have been more careful.

The flame of the lighter dies out, blown away by a breeze and she lights it up again. What the hell, she could just burn down the whole building right now. The sooner they can toss aside the chains of this house, the better.

Just as she contemplates her idea, wondering how should she start, a deep voice speaks up behind her, effectively making her thoughts come to a halt.

"You shouldn't play with fire."

She snorts, not even turning around.

"Don't I know it." She cocks her head to the side, just enough so she can watch Tate from the corner of her eyes as she whispers a quote she's heard once in a TV show, a long long time ago, back when she was still alive and things weren't half as fucked up as they are now._ "But we were like two moths drawn to the flame and burned."  
_

* * *

**The quote Violet whispers is from the TV show, _The Tudors. _I'm not quite sure she'd be the type to watch that show but I thought it fit their relationship well so I went with it.**


	3. when you love someone

_from the love to the lightning_

Originally this was supposed to be a part of a oneshot I'm working on but I realized it didn't fit in so I moved it here.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

_**when you love someone**_

"If it was you," he starts slowly while laying naked in bed next to Violet who leans down to pick up the blanket which somehow ended up on the floor, covering herself with it. He pouts but doesn't say anything - she always does that. She never wanst him to look at her naked more than it's necessary. "I would forgive you. Because I love you so much."

She gives him a pointed look because he just broke rule number 3 - don't ever talk about _that_ - but he doesn't really care right now. What could she do anyway? She already took away her love and he knows she's not going to deprive him of sex because she enjoys it too much.

That's rule number 1 - just sex and nothing else.

Rule number 2 is that he has to leave as soon as they're finished, and if he doesn't go on his own she would send him away.

In a way, he figures, he's breaking all the rules right now.

She wants to ignore his comment and tell him to go now because his job here is finished but instead she finds herself saying. "Are you saying I should forgive you because I love you?"

He wonders if that was her way of admitting she still loved him but he decides against asking her. She would only get angry. "Well, yeah. I would forgive you for anything."

She knows he means that but she doesn't like it. "And that's not exactly healthy, Tate." She sighs at his confused look. He loves her, sure, that's something she's never doubted, but yet the poor boy knows nothing about love. Granted, she doesn't know much either but she knows it doesn't work that way. "Tate, when you love someone you aren't supposed to just overlook all their mistakes and forgive the bad things they've done. You are supposed to... make them see the error of their ways and challange them to be a better person."

He sits up quickly, his eyes pleading with her desperately when he speaks. "But I've changed. I'm a better person." He pauses. "I think."

"You've changed," she nods with a wry smile on her face. "But it's too late."

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**Three updates in three days, but this was my last idea for this story, so I don't know when I'll update again.**

**Kathy**


	4. to hurt her

_from the love to the lightning_

My muse wouldn't leave me alone so I managed to write three more of this little oneshots last night. The other two should be up soon too._  
_

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own anything.

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**_to hurt her_**

His cold eyes follow her around the kitchen as she makes herself a sandwich and a cup of tea.

He's invisible but not for long. He suspects she knows he's there anyway, she always does.

It's one of those rare occasions when she hasn't got a care in the world – she looks relaxed, peaceful, happy even, he notes with a hint of disdain. Usually he's glad to see her like this, because happiness was all he ever wanted for her, and because she looks more beautiful than it should be allowed, but not today.

Today he's in a bad mood.

Today he's in a bad mood because of her and when he thinks of the reason she's so cheerful, he wants to scream and destroy, he wants to hurt someone, hurt her. Maybe not physically, but he wants to hurt her back the same way she's hurt him. Or ruin her good mood at the very least.

He steps out of the shadows. There's an ugly scowl on his lips when he speaks. "Do you enjoy whoring yourself around?"

She turns around with agonizing slowness, the plate still in her hand. She looks unbothered by his comment – yet. "I slept with Travis. Once."

"You don't love him. You don't even like him."

"What was I supposed to do when I was horny and you wouldn't fuck me?" It was true, he wouldn't. He wouldn't and he won't, not until she makes some kind of gesture towards him.

He's not even asking for forgiveness, a simple _'I love you'_ would do, but she's unwilling to give him that and so he's unwilling to give her sex. With how turned on she was most of the time, he was confident she would give in sooner or later but then she went and fucked Travis and now he's reconsidering things.

Maybe he should have done what she wanted him to do while he still could.

Just as he opens his mouth to answer her question and tell her there's this thing called masturbation, she continues on, giving him no time to speak his mind.

"Should I have kidnapped you and tied you up? Raped you like you raped my mother?" She steps closer to him, malice in her eyes. Of course he would have deserved it but she refuses to be that person.

And would it still be rape if he enjoyed it too?

"Is that what turns you on, Tate? Does the thought make you hard? Is that why you raped her?"

His need to hurt her is back but it's so much stronger. He wants to make her suffer, he wants to see her squirm and writhe under the pain. See her cry like he cried today when he watched her with Travis.

His response is automatic.

"No, the truth is I'm just simply not sexually attracted to you."

The plate falls to the ground and shatters into pieces.

He knows that was always one of her fears, ever since that day when he rejected her on the beach, maybe even before that. She has her insecurities too and her body has always been one of them. He knew that all too well and he used his knowledge to hit a sore spot.

Her mouth hangs open. The first emotion to run across her face is hurt, then anger, and then there's nothing.

Numbness.

That's almost better to see than the pain.

She turns around and hurriedly walks away, and he lets her go without a word. He knows that within an hour he'll regret ever opening his big mouth and he'll be crawling back to her on his knees, begging for forgiveness, telling her he lied, and maybe even showing her just how much he didn't mean it, if she still wants him and lets him.

But for now he's cruelly satisfied. Maybe he'll even go find Hayden to satisfy another one of his needs too.

If he does, he'll make sure to be loud.

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**A little longer than usual. I think I just wanted to show Tate's darker side, the side that's willing to hurt even Violet.**


	5. when the house burns

_from the love to the lightning_

I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this one... but it was already ready so I couldn't help it.

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own anything.

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**_when the house burns_**

When the house burns, Violet goes to find Tate.

She had finally snapped, finally had enough and did what no one else dared to do but everyone dreamt of doing – she had set fire to the house.

And as she watches the flames eat away the contours of this prison, she searches for Tate.

She does not know what will happen after this, what will become of them when it's all melted to the ground, but one way or another she knows she won't be seeing Tate anymore.

She wants to make last amends.

"I really loved you, you know," she speaks up when she finally comes across him in her room – he, unlike everyone else, hadn't fled from the house yet, instead stayed and watched as all her belongings and all their memories turned into ashes. "And I still do. I think we could have had it all."

He turns around to face her and there are no tears in his eyes but the utter desolation cuts into her heart more than any tears could have. "Maybe in another life… Maybe we were not destined to make it here but in another life we're happy."

And if that's true, she hopes that when the house burns down she will die, disappear, and reborn in an universe where she and Tate can have all the things they couldn't have in this life.

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**The next oneshot is coming tomorrow :)**


	6. to make her proud

_from the love to the lightning_

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own anything.

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_**to make her proud**_

He hesitates at the entrance of the school.

When he agreed to this, he was only doing a favor to Violet. He was willing to do anything and everything she wanted just to keep her, now that he had her back. She thought it was something he had to do, part of his way to redemption, so he went along with it.

Now though, he begins to see that she was right.

He has to take responsibility for his own actions. He owes it to them.

But it's hard.

And he's afraid.

He turns back to Violet with a lost expression on his face, ready to tell her that he can't do this, that he's too weak. But when he opens his mouth to speak she grabs his hand in hers and squeezes tightly.

The look in her eyes holds so much faith that he wants to cry.

"I believe in you."

The effect is immediate.

The need to please Violet is back in full force, overthrowing his fear. He wants to prove himself to her. He wants to make her proud.

So he turns back to the school and with measured steps and head held high, he makes his way inside, ready to meet the very first of his victims – the victims of his shooting.

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**I think it was about time I wrote something less angsty here.**


	7. pretty woman

_from the love to the lightning_

Fluff-warning for this one.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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_**pretty woman**_

When she admits she's bored one day, it's on.

There's only so much kissing and playing games you can do before you begin to tire of it and everything. And no, she's not tiring of Tate, but she longs for something new, something exciting, something extraordinary.

And he's determined to give her that.

* * *

The music coming from her bedroom attracts her attention. When she steps inside she's greeted by the sight of Tate standing in the middle of the room, grinning like an idiot, a familiar melody coming through the speakers of her laptop.

Her mouth is slightly parted in confusion and she's looking at him like he's an alien. "Tate, what are you doing?"

He holds out his hand to her and doesn't answer her question until she takes it. When she does, he pulls her closer, hugging her body against his, swaying her lightly. "Dancing with you," he answers her just as the first words of the song rings out.

_Pretty woman, walking down the street  
Pretty woman, the kind I like to meet_

"_Pretty woman_? Why?"

"I happen to think you're a pretty woman. As pretty as Julia Roberts. Prettier."

She giggles as he spins around, singing along to the song quietly.

_I don't believe you, you're not the truth  
No one could look as good as you._

His voice is surprisingly good, but maybe that's just her biased heart, and the way he's looking at her as he whispers the words. She can see that he's not simply singing them, but means them too, and it really makes her feel pretty.

"You're comparing me to Julia Roberts? You do know she played a prostitute in that movie, right?"

"Well, I think you'd make a pretty prostitute," he retorts, grinning cheekily and she can't help but laugh, hitting his shoulders playfully.

They continue to dance, swaying and spinning around, and they're so in sync if she didn't know better she'd say they were doing this their whole lives. Neither of them are unfamiliar with dancing – him, because Constance had insisted on teaching him, always the perfectionist, and her because she danced ballet once upon a time – hey, she was little, okay? And now their knowledge is finally playing off.

'_Cause I need you, I'll treat you right_

He dips her low, mumbling the words against her lips, her mouth curving into a smile as he does. She wants to lean in and kiss him but he doesn't let her, bringing her back to standing position as the rhythm picks up again.

When the last verse of the song rings out, they stop moving and she leans her head on his shoulder, sighing ever so softly.

"Thank you," she whispers against his sweater. He smiles, stroking her hair gently.

"Next time we'll dance to heavy metal."

She only laughs loudly at that.


	8. he's gone

_from the love to the lightning_

This one is AU. Vi and Tate are married, they were both alive when they first met and now they're living in the Murder House.

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't own anything.

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_**he's gone**_

She wakes up in the middle of the night because of reasons unknown. She doesn't feel hungry or thirsty, she doesn't have to pee, there are no weird noises in the middle of the night disturbing her sleep.

But when she opens her eyes she swears she can see him standing in front of the window, the moonlight shining brightly, illuminating his dark eyes which bore into hers.

She sits up so fast, her neck gets whiplash. She lets out a moan of pain, her hand flying up to massage her strained neck, and when she looks back to where she saw him he's gone.

If he was ever there.

She tries not to cry because she thinks she's cried enough in the past few days for a lifetime but then she sees his side of the bed, empty and cold, and she can't help it.

_He's gone._

Falling down the stairs, what a fucking joke.

She falls back onto her pillow and closing her eyes, she wishes with all her might that she'll fall asleep and never wake up because reality is just a nightmare for her right now, and she has no desire nor any idea how to deal with the situation and with what will happen tomorrow.

But sleep never does come to her eyes and in the morning she's dragged out of the bed by her mother to start preparing for putting her husband to eternal rest.


	9. a little copy of you

_from the love to the lightning_

Enjoy the fluffiness. I needed to write something happy because it cheers me up :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

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_**a little copy of you**_

"Did you know," she begins when they're sitting on the couch, one of his arms slung around her shoulders, the other resting on her stomach. The TV is playing in the background but neither of them pay much attention to it, "that someone who smokes around the time of conceiving is more likely to have a girl?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I read it somewhere."

His grin is huge and infectious. "I want a girl," he admits sheepishly, his hand on her stomach now rubbing her small belly. "A girl to be just like you."

"I don't know, I would rather have a boy. A little copy of you."

"Twins then."

"I don't think so, Mister," she shakes her head but she's smiling. "One baby is just enough for now."

The next doctor's appointment they find out they're having twins. She's scared but overjoyed at the news and he grins and says he knew it all along.

Twins. A girl and a boy, to be just like their parents.


	10. ghosts of the past

_from the love to the lightning_

Don't really know how old Violet is, but I always imagined her as 16 so I'm going with that.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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_**ghosts of the past**_

At the age of fifteen, she wasn't one of those sappy teenage girls who fussed over the movie, _Titanic. _Sure, she's seen it, more than once actually - because her mother, typically, adored it - but it didn't touch her heart and it didn't make her cry and she didn't get why it was considered a movie classic of all time.

It was nothing special, and really, it was ridiculous how fast Rose and Jack had fallen for each other without even knowing the other. That kind if shit didn't happen in real life.

It would only be a year later that she realizes, sadly for her, it _does _happen.

It would be another year later when she finally begins to grow fond of the movie, understanding what she didn't get before: the message of the story.

As she watches the scenes unfold on the screen of the huge plasma TV the new owners brought with themselves, she thinks she can see some kind of resemblance between the couple in the movie and herself and Tate. Jack wasn't a mass murdering rapist ghost boy and Rose wasn't a suicidal unstable teenage girl but the way they loved each other, especially the man, so fully and wholly and all consuming, it reminds her of the way Tate loved her. Still loves her.

And when he dies and she's crying, Violet cries with her, not because she felt sorry for the two poor star crossed lovers, but because she knew what it's like to lose the one you loved the most. She lost her Jack too, maybe not the way Rose did, but it was just as much final as the death of the young boy, and she knows that, just like their love, the pain of losing them can be all consuming too.

She watches as the old lady finishes her story and thinks back on her life, a life she got to live, and she wonders if this is what would have become of her had she not died in the house. She would have left and lived and experienced, and one day, when she was old and grey and tired of life, she would have told her grandchildren about the boy who had captured her heart so long ago and still held it in his keeping.

That's the point of the story, she thinks. Living your life and moving on, even if you never truly let go of the ghosts of your past. That's what Rose did.

It's too bad she can't ever do that.


End file.
